


Prompt Fills

by AKAAuthorUnknown



Category: Original Work
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-14
Updated: 2020-11-14
Packaged: 2021-03-09 19:00:34
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 309
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27551167
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AKAAuthorUnknown/pseuds/AKAAuthorUnknown
Summary: Scenes, short stories, drabbles, and flash fiction inspired by prompts.
Kudos: 1





	Prompt Fills

Prompt: cigarettes and lipstick, crumpled up money, lavender and diaries.

The door groans closed behind James for the first time in a week. The comforter still hangs halfway off the bed, rumpled clothing, and crumpled dollar bills strewn carelessly about the room; nothing has changed since last he was here. Since last, she was here. Slowly he moves toward the neatly arranged desk where a short stack of diaries holds court with Desi’s laptop. James pulls one from the stack, the one decorated with lavenders, her favorite flower, and runs his fingers over curves of her words, his sight too blurred with tears to read them. He turns away, wipes harshly at his face, and slumps onto the bed. His eyes catch on the bright coral stain Anna’s lipstick left on a half-smoked cigarette. His hand trembles as he reaches for it. ‘Those cancer-sticks will kill you’, he used to chastise her. As his lips mold to the shape of the mark hers left, he wishes desperately he could have been right. How many more years they could have shared then. This morning they would have stood in the church she grew up in and promised a lifetime to each other. This afternoon they would have listened to people they love tell embarrassing stories about them and laughed and danced and drank. Tonight they would have lain in this bed as husband and wife, and when he wakes tomorrow his red puffy eyes would be from too much champagne and to little sleep. But the cigarettes didn’t take her slowly, surrounded by loving family. Death came cold and fast, without consideration of plans and promises. And when he wakes tomorrow morning with the taste of stale tobacco on his tongue, and smell lavender in his nose, it will be in the bed of ashes that was once his home.


End file.
